


Beginnings And Endings

by kuonji



Series: Beginnings And Endings [1]
Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-28
Updated: 2012-05-28
Packaged: 2017-11-06 05:25:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/415222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuonji/pseuds/kuonji
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>It wasn't that big of a thing, he reminded himself, in the scheme of his whole life, and Starsky's life. It was nothing compared to what they saw day in and day out on the job.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beginnings And Endings

**Author's Note:**

> This story was awarded the [Diamond Ollie Award](http://sh911award-com.livejournal.com/6480.html) (Best of year post) in 2010. This story was also awarded two other [Ollie Awards](http://community.livejournal.com/sh911award_com), category "Best Serial Story" and "Blondie Award (Best Hutch Story)".
> 
> This story was nominated for an [Ollie Award](http://community.livejournal.com/sh911award_com) in 2010, category "Nail Biting Award (Best angst story)".
> 
> Alternative Links:  
> <http://starskyhutch911.livejournal.com/140673.html>  
> <http://kuonji14.livejournal.com/26451.html>

"I'd let them blow my head off before I'd suck cock."

"I'd blow my own head off before I'd let you suck mine, Halloway."

There were some snickers, before Halloway sneered, "You only like to watch, don't you? You get the good shivers when Sloan was doing your partner?"

There was the sound of a body hitting something rattly, maybe the candy machine.

"Listen to me, you creep. Hutch has got more balls than you on a bad day. You talk like that again, and it won't be just me you've got to handle."

"Hey, okay guys, break it up."

Hutch slumped against the wall outside the break room. It wasn't Halloway's crude taunts that agitated him but rather Starsky's heated defense. He hadn't realized until this moment how uncertain he had been of Starsky's reaction to last Wednesday.

Just now, Starsky had sounded... angry. Like he would if someone had badmouthed Hutch's family, or his integrity. Like he always had.

Hutch was relieved that nothing had changed.

Starsky stormed out of the room, so angry that he went on a few yards before he realized Hutch was there. He turned around, and his face was alive with discomfort. "Hutch?" he said, faintly. "Didja...?" He gestured towards the break room with his chin.

Hutch nodded, feeling awkward about it, like maybe he should have lied. Starsky's face fell even further.

"Aw, hell. I'm sorry. You know I'd throw 'em all in a pit of starving badgers for you if I had my way."

Maybe something had changed after all. Suppressing a scowl, Hutch said, "I don't need you to protect me."

Starsky's expression hardened. "Yeah, I know that." He turned and stalked off.

Suddenly bereft, Hutch hurried to catch him up. "Hey," he said, once they were even. "Can I have a ride home?"

It was such a small favor, but it made Starsky relax all over. "Sure."

***

"Is that a gold necklace?"

Ken controlled himself from rolling his eyes in front of his father, a gesture that would have been condemned as rude. "It's a chain, dad. Boys don't wear necklaces."

His father frowned, ignoring the byplay. "Where did you get it?"

"It's a birthday present."

"Oh. Well, take care of it. It looks expensive." Ken had a lot of relatives. His father didn't keep track of who gave him what. He was also too distracted to question why his son would be wearing a birthday present only now, eight months after his birthday.

Ken was glad for it. His parents' distraction came with the independence that was the envy of all his friends. He excused himself and ran to get his bike.

***

Hutch watched Starsky's hands on the steering wheel. While the bruises on his neck and torso had mostly started to fade, the scars on his wrists were still livid -- evidence of how hard Starsky had fought.

They shouldn't make Hutch feel strangely comforted.

Hutch turned to the window and told himself that he had nothing to apologize for.

The car stopped, and only then did Hutch realize that they had reached his apartment. "Thanks," he said. Belatedly, he realized that he hadn't thanked Starsky for putting down Halloway earlier. Then he remembered that they'd never needed thanks before for backing each other up.

The moment stretched a little too long, and Hutch hurried to exit the car, as if making up for lost time. He hated how uncomfortable things were, but he didn't know how to fix it. He wondered how fifteen minutes could ruin almost a decade of friendship.

He was just hanging up his gun when he heard a scrape at the door. He had his weapon half-drawn before he recognized Starsky entering. His face was stormy, and it put Hutch on the alert.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, a bit more abrasively than he'd intended.

Starsky slammed the door behind him and locked it. "I've had it," he declared. "This is driving me nuts."

"What, you barging into my home?" Hutch asked, reholstering his weapon pointedly.

"You know what."

***

"You think you're such a tough guy, do you?" Sloan kicked Starsky again. Restrained as he was, Starsky couldn't dodge or fight back.

"And you're a star player, kicking a guy who's tied up," Starsky grated. "How about you let me loose, and _then_ we'll talk."

Sloan laughed. "Do you think I'm stupid?" He put one foot on Starsky's chest, practically standing on him, judging from the way Starsky was wheezing. "We'll see how tough you are after you bring me off with that smart mouth of yours."

"In your dreams, buddy." The rejoinder came too late. Hutch had seen the split-second of real fear in Starsky's eyes.

Sloan had, too.

"Don't like that thought, do you?" he taunted. "Giving it up for a man?"

"You try, and you'll lose it."

Sloan just smiled and moved his foot to Starsky's throat.

Hutch could see that Sloan's threat hadn't been an idle one. Knocking Starsky around had made the sick bastard hard.

The only word in Hutch's head was, _NO!_

***

"What in hell were you thinking?" They both knew what Starsky was talking about.

"I was thinking, better me than you. And I was right." There. He'd said it.

"Don't you give me that I-know-better attitude."

"I _did_ know better. Kept him going until the cavalry got there, didn't I?"

"You think I'm happy about that?" Starsky's voice got quieter. "It shoulda been me, Hutch."

Hutch grit his teeth. " _No_."

"You think I couldn't handle it?"

That was irrelevant, but saying that wouldn't get Starsky off his back. "No, I don't think you could. I was the better guy for the job. That's what partners are about."

"Partners? _Partners_? Are partners supposed to steamroll each other like that? You gave me nothing! I had to just sit there and watch while some lowlife..."

"You can't even say it," Hutch scoffed. "You think you could have let him touch you without getting both of us killed?"

Starsky looked mutinous but didn't reply.

"That's why it had to be me."

It was only partly a lie.

***

The cock in his mouth seemed to have thickened even more. Ken wasn't sure if that was an illusion caused by his aching jaw, or if his efforts were actually paying off. He thought he was getting the hang of this. Howie was making all sorts of pleased noises.

He tried to take more in, but he was too greedy, and suddenly he couldn't breathe, and his jaw locked, and he was choking and gagging.

"I'm sorry," Ken sighed, shame-faced. Those pornos made it look so easy.

"It's okay, Ken. We'll try again next time." Howie stroked his hair. "Here, just use your hand. I'm close."

Next time.

Ken kissed him, hard.

***

"You're so full of it. You always think you got everything handled, huh? Ridin' in to rescue the poor slobs who ain't never sucked cock before?"

The unusual crudity was indicative of how angry Starsky was. He was trying to provoke Hutch -- but it was having the opposite effect. An angry Starsky was easier to manipulate, which gave Hutch the upper hand as long as he stayed collected himself.

"If you wanted to learn, Starsky, you could've just asked nicely," he said, in the most patronizing tone he could.

Predictably, Starsky blazed like a firecracker -- but then he shook his head viciously and the moment was gone. "You're a piece of work, Hutch. Why can't you just apologize already?"

"Why can't you just let it go?" Hutch answered. "Just because I'm better than you at one thing--"

"Don't try that again." Starsky glared, and Hutch had to hold his tongue. "What's the matter with you, anyway? Why are you trying to make like this isn't a big deal?"

***

Hutch leaned forward, clumsy with his hands still cuffed behind him to the boiler. The position wrenched his shoulders, but with the hard, business-like muzzle of his own gun aimed at his temple, he didn't think it wise to complain.

Sweat, soiled cotton, and the odor of urine assaulted his senses. He froze, suddenly uncertain of himself.

"What's the matter, blondie? Lost your nerve?" A hand clenched hard in his hair, and he gasped in pain. His face was shoved toward Sloan's crotch, and he recoiled and tried to fight.

"Let him go, Sloan!"

Starsky's exclamation focused him into calming, reminding him what -- whom -- he was doing this for. Gulping a breath, he leaned forward again and this time reached his target. Sloan grunted his approval.

" _Hutch_."

***

"It _wasn't_ a big deal," Hutch insisted. "The only reason it's turning into one is because you're-- we're telling everyone it was forced."

Starsky gaped. "We're saying that because it's true! Haven't you read the manual lately? It was _rape_."

Hutch felt himself lock down at the word. Automatically, he braced for the disgust that Starsky had never actually shown an inkling of. "I chose it," he reminded his partner.

***

Howie pushed him away, and Ken mumbled a protest, until a finger on his mouth stopped him.

"I have something special in mind," Howie said.

Ken could feel his heart rate nearly double. "Like what?" he said.

"You're a smart boy, Ken. That's one of the things I love about you. You know what I'm thinking about, don't you?"

There wasn't any point in pretending he didn't. Ken nodded, his mouth dry.

"Good. You want to try it, don't you?"

Again, Ken nodded.

"You sure?"

Ken finally found his voice. "Yeah. Yeah, Howie. Let's do it."

"I knew you would say that. What a good boy you are, Kenny."

Ken leaned into the caress, excited and happy.

***

Starsky was stubborn as ever. "All right, you chose it. But you didn't want it."

"But what's the difference, right?" he said, bitterly.

" _What_?" Starsky did look disgusted now. "You think I'm one of those jerks like Halloway? You think I thought you asked for it, just because you're--" Starsky faltered, and Hutch stiffened.

"Just because I'm what?"

Starsky's face regained that angry edge. "Just because you go with men."

He'd known the gist of what Starsky was about to say, yet it still shocked him to hear it. "I don't."

Starsky's expression exploded in anger. "Don't lie to me. I'm not an idiot."

"I didn't say you were."

"You going to stand there and tell me to my face that you're not gay?"

That was an easy one. "I'm not."

But Starsky knew him too well. His mouth turned down in sarcasm. "Bisexual, then." Hutch hesitated, and Starsky's jaw clenched. "Right," he said, in confirmation. "When were you going to tell me?"

"There's nothing to tell." Feeling contrary, he snapped, "What's it to you who I sleep with?"

"You did not just say that." Starsky's voice was low and outraged.

***

"What?" Sloan turned to Hutch. Hutch squared himself and ignored Starsky's gaze. He didn't want to know what his partner was thinking.

"I- I said, take me. Leave him alone."

Sloan laughed, mocking. "Why the hell would I do that?"

And there it was. Hutch had to make his case, and he knew how to do it. He'd do anything, he knew, to keep this scum away from his partner, including giving up his last secret. "I know how to give you a good time. You won't have to 'convince' me."

"You don't say?" Sloan said, sounding intrigued at his audacity, if not especially persuaded. He hadn't let Starsky up. Hutch could hear Starsky making strangled noises around the boot on his throat. It was probably a good thing Starsky couldn't talk right now.

"What could it hurt to give me a try?" He licked his lips and lowered his eyes, praying that the shining golden-boy looks that people liked to talk about had enough truth in them. "I can do you good. Better than you've ever had, I'll bet."

It seemed to work, at least enough to pique Sloan's curiosity. The heavyset felon, currently wanted in three states, lifted his foot and advanced on Hutch. Starsky gasped and coughed twice, but immediately shouted, "Hutch, are ya crazy?"

He probably was. But he wasn't going to back down.

***

"I don't have to report my love life to you."

"You know it's not about that," Starsky said, unexpectedly sobering. "It's about trust, Hutch. You and me. That's what really matters."

Hutch preferred Starsky mad. This clear-thinking, penetrating version struck too close to the core. Hutch shrank away and sought the dubious shelter of the couch. "You think I don't trust you?" he asked. He sat heavily and wiped his hands down the tops of his jeans.

Starsky, who had pursued him, placed himself on the coffee table directly opposite. He crowded in, their knees touching. "I know you do. But you pulled a big stunt with Sloan, and I want to know _I_ can still trust _you_."

That hurt.

"What do you want from me?" He was embarrassed to hear his own plaintive tone.

Starsky looked surprised at Hutch's capitulation. Then his face went grim. "For starters, I need you to promise you won't pull that kind of shit again. We're partners. You don't get to play White Knight with me."

"I can't promise that." He held up a hand at Starsky's glower. "Starsky, you'd jump in front of a bullet for me. How can I promise not to do the same?"

Starsky was clearly startled by the comparison. "That's different."

"It's not. You'd have done the same." That seemed to strike a nerve. Starsky stared, and his voice wavered when he managed to speak again.

"I would've," he almost whispered. "Hutch, you have to believe me. I never wanted you to do that for me." He looked as utterly miserable as Hutch had ever seen him. Hutch's heart broke. He hadn't done what he had to make Starsky look this way.

Forgetting his own distress, he reached out and gripped Starsky's forearms. "I know that. Believe _me_ , I do. I wasn't trying to, to _rescue_ you. I just couldn't watch that scumbag do that to you. It would have killed me." He stopped, realizing he was skirting dangerously close to what he didn't want to expose.

"You know how it is," he added quickly. "It always hurts worse to be the one on the outside. I wasn't doing you any favors."

Starsky's breath hitched, and he looked away. When he looked back, his eyes were clearer. He seemed to have accepted the explanation.

"Are we... okay now?" Hutch asked, stroking his thumbs soothingly over Starsky's arms.

Starsky hesitated. He ducked his head for a moment. When he looked up again, his face, always so open with Hutch, showed hurt. "How long have you been sleeping with men?" he asked.

Hutch stared at the bald-faced question. He dropped his hands from Starsky as if scalded.

***

Three weeks, Ken realized in surprise. That was how long he'd known Howie, from that first chance meeting in the park to now. It didn't seem long enough. He felt like he'd known Howie his whole life.

He leaned back a little, slowing his bike. The new tires rode well. They were Hutchinson tires, a good racing brand. "Hutchinson for my Hutchinson," Howie had said, and they'd had a good laugh about it. Howie said that he'd wanted to get Ken a new bike altogether, but he was afraid his parents wouldn't understand.

Ken didn't think his folks would even notice, but he didn't want Howie to blow big bucks on him, so he'd agreed.

His skin tingled as he pulled into the driveway of Howie's one-story. He parked his bike in the back like always, then knocked on the back door. It opened a few moments later.

"Kenny! Come in! You're early today."

Ken shrugged nonchalantly, secretly happy to have surprised the man. "I skipped baseball practice."

"You didn't have to do that," Howie said, but Ken could tell that he was pleased.

"My folks won't be back until dinnertime," Ken hinted broadly.

Howie didn't say anything, but his eyelids lowered, and his hands went down to his waistband.

"I'll do that," Ken said, stepping forward. He was worlds bolder now than he'd once been. Howie, for his part, was past coddling him. Instead of protesting, he pushed Ken's shoulders down and voiced encouragement: dirty, cursing words that Ken never heard anywhere else and wasn't allowed to say himself.

"You're so good at that," Howie said later, when they were lying on Howie's couch together. "I love you, Kenny. I love you so much. You're the most amazing boy I've ever met."

Ken burrowed deeper into the circle of Howie's arms, lax with contentment and drunk with Howie's praise. This. Just this.

This was better than all the new bikes he could ever want.

***

Hutch covered his face, with the excuse of massaging his temples. He needed a moment to control his expression. "What does it matter?"

"You don't have to give me details, but..." Starsky frowned. "I don't aim to be blind-sided again. You see how some of the jerks at the station are now, and they don't even know--"

"Know what?" Hutch interrupted, his tone going acerbic as he glared a challenge. Starsky didn't know anything, despite what he thought.

Starsky studied his face, so minutely that Hutch felt like a perp under interrogation. He looked down again and spoke first, trying to head off any questions. "You don't have to worry. It's all look and don't touch with me."

"Bullshit."

Hutch snapped his head up at the sharp retort. Some of the hardness was back in Starsky's eyes.

"You knew what you were doing with Sloan. That was no amateur job. What you did probably saved our lives, and you know I don't care where you learned it. Why are you lying to me, partner?"

Hutch knew that Starsky wasn't a detective for nothing, but rarely did they use their skills on each other like this. "I'm not lying."

"You look me in the eye when you say that, and maybe I'll believe you."

Hutch did so, and he found himself tongue-tied. He licked his lips and started to insist again that he was telling the truth, but Starsky cut him off.

"Don't try to snow _me_. Hutch, what's going on here? You've been off all week. I thought it was Sloan, but something's... _weird_."

***

Starsky paused, his free hand on the latch to the basement. Hutch gave him a questioning look. Starsky frowned, and Hutch checked around them quickly. He wasn't sure if some instinct was warning him of trouble, or if he were just picking up signals from his partner.

"Hutch!"

He ducked too late, and a glancing blow knocked him against the wall. A second, more solid blow was the last thing he felt, before waking up to the sound of his partner acquiring bruised kidneys and two cracked ribs.

***

Hutch gulped. He'd known on some level since last week that he'd have to come clean. He knew Starsky wouldn't let it rest. He hadn't prepped a convenient lie, because he'd kept hoping he was wrong. And maybe... because he thought the truth was overdue anyway.

Still, now that the moment was here, it felt like everything was boiling over too fast. It was no longer a matter of choice. Hutch could no longer keep it up even if he wanted to. Not and also keep Starsky. And he could never give up Starsky. He knew that.

***

"You give it up so good. God, I love you. My pretty little whore."

Ken stiffened at the new epithet. Howie had moved on from calling him darling and sweetheart early on. Men didn't call each other by endearments, anyway, right? He'd been calling Ken everything from cocksucker to bitch lately, and it hadn't bothered him that much, but this...

Howie moaned as Ken's body inadvertently tightened around him. Ken could tell he was coming. He'd already come himself, and he'd lost whatever hardness he'd regained when Howie entered him. Howie didn't seem to notice.

Ken lay there, smothered under Howie's big body, and he thought about his new pen, and the leather jacket, and the tickets, and the racing tires, and the gold chain. He dug his face into Howie's pillow and told himself he had it all wrong.

But he knew he didn't.

***

Somehow, Hutch gathered the courage to look his partner in the eye as he said, "I swear to you, I haven't been with a man for over twenty years. Other than Sloan," he amended.

" _Forget_ Sloan!" Starsky grimaced. "Hutch, I just don't get it. What are you fighting me for? Do you think I'll be mad? What?"

Hutch stared helplessly. If Starsky couldn't figure it out, then the whole conversation was done for, because he couldn't say it any more clearly than he already had. It just wasn't in him.

"Hutch?" By some instinct, Starsky reached out to his face to touch him. It was too raw, with too many things on the surface. Hutch flinched away.

Starsky jerked his hand back. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He ran his fingers through his dark curls, face twisted with emotion. Guilt, Hutch could guess. Plus a good dose of frustration, too. Hutch couldn't help that.

"You should go," he suggested, putting a firm finality into it. He'd said as much as he could, and more than he should, and it wasn't enough. It was time to move on. He'd pick up the pieces after Starsky left.

It wasn't that big of a thing, he reminded himself, in the scheme of his whole life, and Starsky's life. It was nothing compared to what they saw day in and day out on the job.

Starsky stared at him with wounded eyes. Finally, he heaved a breath. "Fine. Fine, I'll--" His gaze sharpened, and Hutch froze.

"Twenty years?" Starsky repeated.

Hutch tensed. He felt like he was poised on the edge of a mountain of glass. One more instant, and he'd be cut to ribbons.

"Hutch, what-- How old were you?"

"Thirteen." His voice cracked on the last syllable. "Almost fourteen."

"And, and the other guy?"

"I don't know. L- Looking back... forty, maybe. Mid to late thirties. I'm not sure."

"Oh, my god. Son of a--!"

"He didn't force me," Hutch remembered to say. When he'd once or twice contemplated telling Starsky this secret, he'd always promised himself to tell the whole truth. "He gave me... things. He was good to me."

"Shit. Oh, _shit_." Starsky sprang to his feet and started prowling around the living room. His fingers were back in his hair, hanging on. He came to a stop, back to Hutch. He didn't turn around as he demanded, "Who is he?"

"It doesn't matter. It was a long time ago. Starsky, are you listening to me? He didn't do anything. I was just dumb, okay?"

Starsky whirled around, his eyes flashing cobalt and his hands raising in clenched fists. "Don't you fucking defend him, Hutch, or so help me, you'll get it in the face." Before Hutch could even react to that, Starsky squeezed his eyes shut and put one fist to his forehead. "No, I didn't mean that. Ah, shit. Ah..."

***

"Ah...! Oh, _yeah_. You suck real good, pig. Take it, take it. Don't you fuckin' spit it out. You want it all, don't you, you little whore?"

Hutch choked it down as best he could, his eyes stinging from the pain where Sloan was gripping his hair so hard he was surprised it wasn't coming out.

A noise outside preluded a shout of, "Police! Open up!"

They were all slow to react.

Starsky recovered first. "Hutch!" he yelled. The cuffs rattled as he lunged again, but the banister continued to hold.

It was enough to galvanize him. He wrenched his head free and butted Sloan where it hurt, sending him sprawling and cursing on the dirty floor. He heard the magnum skitter over the cement. He had barely enough time to spit afterward.

Sloan hadn't even zipped up his pants before Edwards, Carding, and four of the Feds barged in, weapons ready.

***

Starsky came back to the couch, his motions as wary as if he were approaching a wild animal.

"It was a long time ago," Hutch said again, wanting to reassure him. "Nothing happened that I didn't want. I was even the one who broke it off at the end. It was just for fun, that's all. I didn't know any better."

"If that was all, you wouldn't be lookin' like you wanted to drop into a hole and stay there." Starsky sat down next to him, his eyes searching.

Hutch looked away, disturbed at being so transparent. "I just... I can't believe I was so _stupid_. And no one ever--" His throat closed, choking off whatever else he might have started to say.

He felt Starsky's hand come to rest on the back of his head. He turned Hutch back to face him, then pressed gently but steadily until their foreheads touched. Starsky's eyes were bright with emotion.

It made Hutch feel perversely good. Loved. But he felt ashamed for being pleased at seeing his best friend hurt. "I'm sorry," he whispered, trying to encompass everything, from today, to last week, to two decades ago when he hadn't even known his partner.

Starsky's eyes closed. "Aw, Hutch," he sighed. "Don't say that. Not ever."

"Okay," Hutch said, willing to promise anything at this moment. Some of the hurt seemed to leave Starsky at that. He put his other hand on Hutch's back, sliding it down in a firm, comforting stroke, then starting again at the top.

"Before last week, I hardly even thought about it anymore," Hutch confessed. He felt guilty about that, too.

Starsky nodded. With their heads together, Hutch had to nod with him.

"Tell me about it?"

Hutch didn't answer immediately. It wasn't indecision stopping him, so much as it was confusion. How could he possibly articulate a part of himself that had been silent for so long?

Starsky continued stroking his back in that slow, hypnotic rhythm.

"You trust me, don't you?"

Hutch breathed in the warm, strong scent of his partner. "You know I do," he said. Starsky stayed silent while Hutch gathered his thoughts. "It's just all so... mixed up. I wouldn't even know where to start."

Starsky's hand stopped and he shifted back. Hutch felt a wrench of hopelessness. He prepared himself for Starsky's disappointment or even irritation at Hutch's reticence, but Starsky's expression was open, with the hint of an encouraging smile. He slid his hands down Hutch's arms in a half embrace, half rough caress, winding up with both of Hutch's hands clasped between his own.

"The beginning's usually a good place," he prompted gently.

Hutch looked down at where their hands met. He marveled at how that one point of contact could mean so much to him. He pulled his right hand out carefully, and he wrapped it around Starsky's left one, so that they were each enclosing half of each other. Then, both surrounding and surrounded, he let himself relax...

...and he began at the beginning.

  
END.

**Author's Note:**

> _This one's for EC, just because. And for JG, because she's my Starsky._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [Beginnings And Endings Index](http://kuonji14.livejournal.com/34137.html)
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you enjoyed this story, you might try these:  
>      [The Fix (the "candy will kill you" remix)](http://community.livejournal.com/meandthee_wish/6894.html) (Starsky & Hutch), by kuonji  
>      [All's Fair](http://kuonji14.livejournal.com/9518.html) (Stargate SG-1), by kuonji  
>      [Waterfall](http://meandthee.shahrazad.net/display.php?storyid=692) (Starsky & Hutch), by Charlotte Frost  
>      [Family Loyalty](http://morganlogan.com/family_loyalty.html) (Starsky & Hutch), by Morgan Logan  
>      [The Real Shame](http://listen-r.livejournal.com/1700.html) (Starsky & Hutch), by listen-r  
>      [Teen AU](http://hutchynstarsk.livejournal.com/tag/teen+au) (Starsky & Hutch), by HutchyNStarsk


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